


I am yours, my King.

by FlamingRedRyu



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: F/F, Male pronouns for Arthur but it's still f/f, Other, Suggestive smut but no graphic language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:13:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21607354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlamingRedRyu/pseuds/FlamingRedRyu
Summary: A small smut drabble for my secondary account, I like Arthur x Morgan and they love each other. Implied incest, not a hetero fanfic despite the pronouns.
Relationships: Morgan le Fay/Artoria Pendragon | Saber
Comments: 3
Kudos: 83





	I am yours, my King.

Another lengthy banquet for their allies, countless formalities, facades and drunken laughter that echoed across the castle walls for most of the evening at Camelot. After politely facing the brunt of their noble guests and simultaneously establishing their sovereignty, the King and Queen of Britain were finally allowed to retreat to their chambers. Several hours of loud demands, veiled complaints towards the regime, drinking lukewarm beverages and being the centre of attention amongst people who wanted something from them. It was exhausting, for the King most of all. But his Queen, Morgan le Fay, faced a different and far more vile kind of attention from the noble circles of Britain. Rumours and concocted lies spread fast, and so all eyes were on the beautiful sorceress. Eyes that averted themselves in cowardice, fearful of Le Fay finding out who spoke out against her, of who she truly was. Allegedly.

A witch, so they whispered in excitement and hidden fear, perversely ogling at how the royal couple acted around one another. A woman of great magical prowess, who had Arthur wrapped around her elegant finger, as long as she bedded him. Atrocious rumours, but they rarely died down, tales that are based on truth have a long lifespan. For even Morgan couldn't deny that her charms were magically enhanced, unavoidable even, for whomever she set her sights on. A natural gift befitting a handsome witch, but nonetheless an enchantment, one that had certainly given a cooperative hand in nailing down the chosen King. Accusations may be damning, they may be based on reality, but Morgan refused to loathe herself for living her best life. Wedded to the most beautiful monarch that had ever lived, she had him firmly under her thumb, unable to deny how her love for him was ever growing. He was tired today, worn down under the weight of his duties. And so, as the royal pair went off into their shared chambers, devilishly kind Morgan decided to grant him a night of sexual healing. 

The tired lovers descended onto their canopy bed, the blanche, silky curtains around it were swiftly closed. At last, they were alone. Morgan laid herself on top of Arthur, bed creaking with the eagerness in which she moved. Opportunism may have been her initial reason for wishing to be the King’s wife, but she sure did not mind the pretty package wrapped around the might of Britain’s ruler, she wanted him in earnest. She craved his warmth, those strong yet gentle arms around her slender frame, he wanted her to feel good. His love for a witch like her, it pricked a hole in the defences of Morgan’s desensitized heart, until she could not help but bleed out in returned amour.

For a while they merely cuddled together, whispering sweet nothings and confiding into each other about the burdens of being King and Queen. It was a cleansing, all of their stress and frustration washing away with the touch of their paramour. Eventually succumbing to the growing tension between them, Arthur kissed his bride with lips that tasted of red wine. He kept this up, until Morgan gave in by dipping her tongue between the folds of his mouth, moaning once she tasted his spices. A sample of how delicious tonight was set to become. Once the kiss came to a standstill, the Queen of Britain pulled back to breathe, returning to kiss along the right side of Arthur’s face. Pressing pecks along his jaw, cheeks and temple. Controlling him in the bed by the grace of her magic, such a silly rumour. Morgan did not need any sort of spell to drive her King crazy, she knew her way around him well.

"My king, thou art so tensed. Allow me to take away thy sorrows and replace it with the purest of pleasure..~"   
Morgan whispered these enticing words against the ear of her husband, letting out a puff of air against the King's earlobe. Arthur’s pretty visage, blushed a deep red in response to Morgan's touch. The once so strong warrior, reduced to a common man with a yearning desire. He weakly nodded as her hands danced across his chest, sharp nails quickly disposing of his tunic and raking over scarred skin, attained in countless battles that had brought about the unison of his kingdom. Usually quite dormant during their love making, Arthur seemed to be set off when his wife lingered near the remains of his wounds. Before she could blink, he had taken control with his barbaric strength, rolling over to press her into the mattress. Morgan let it happen, every once in a while, she aught to indulge, maybe even enjoy her King’s whimsical dominance. 

Arthur's strong hands soon found the cleavage of his wife’s black grown, grasping the fabric where it was prone to tearing apart. With the fearsome power of a conqueror, he ripped the dress in half as if it was nothing between his fingers. Revealing Morgan's pale body, her chest and stomach covered in glowing runes, red like roses and radiant as rubies. The King’s blue eyes went up and down, admiring his wife like as if he had never seen her body before. That was partly true, he had never seen her in this position, for Morgan had never fully submitted to him. Arthur chose to enjoy the rare chance he received. 

She was beautiful, and he kissed her in adoration, his lips dancing over her ample bosom, collarbone, eventually lingering at her jawline. Arthur may be a stoic person, but even he was roused tonight, as he handed Morgan’s previous whisper right back to her.

"My Queen, my beautiful, elusive Morgan. How I desire thee so. Tonight, thou shall know that thou art my woman. I shall make love to thee, as thy king, thou shall be under me...conquered and yearning for more."

Morgan in turn, had never seen him like this, so vigorously set on taking her. Perhaps today had gotten to him thusly, that he had enough pent up rage to be this way. Perhaps the tales about his wife, had made it so that Arthur wanted to prove she was not in control of him. His pride was certainly adorable, Morgan was glad to feed it as he continued to ravage her this following night. 

It did not matter why he was so unlike himself, for now all that mattered, was the Queen’s uncontrollable desire to be under her King. With a hoarse voice that dripped with ripening desperation, Morgan mouthed back at him, words that would incite a smouldering passion within Arthur.

“Then pillage my form, which you so crave. For one day, turn your tender love into sweet lust and engrain into me, subservience for you…My Lord.”

**Author's Note:**

> Not my best writing, but it was pleasant to work on as a break from bigger projects. I hope you enjoyed.


End file.
